


The Shape of Things to Come

by lankyguy



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Episode: s03e08 Human Nature, Episode: s03e08-09 Human Nature/Family of Blood, Episode: s03e09 The Family of Blood, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-10 15:20:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lankyguy/pseuds/lankyguy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim Latimer and Tom Hutchinson are in the trenches in World War 1, and still dealing with the repercussions of the Doctor's visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Absent Friends

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers for s03e08 & 09: Human Nature/Family of Blood

Allied Territory, 1916, France

Tom Hutchinson woke up in the middle of the night.

_Bunk, I’m in my bunk. I’m at camp_ , Hutchinson thought, dragging himself out of his dream. Sitting up too quickly, he hit his head on the cross beam of the empty bunk above and cursed. He rubbed his head, checking his fingers to make sure he was not bleeding.

He looked around the cellar to make certain he hadn’t woken the others. Tim Latimer slept soundly in his own bunk nearby, and Thomas Schofield snored loudly in the bunk above Tim.

Latimer had been an underclassman at the Farringham School for Boys, they had become close friends after the incident there. Schofield was a new transfer into the unit, and a bit of a wanker in Hutchinson’s opinion.

Tomorrow they went back to the trenches. They were in reserve at the back of line, but it was still dangerous. Jennings hadn’t come back after the trenches got bombarded yesterday, and there was still much work to be done.

Hutchinson got up and headed toward the stairs. Their dug-out was the cellar of a bombed out house in the ruined town of Hebuterne, France. Four hundred yards from the front line, night-time artillery was a way of life. Tomorrow they widened the trench but tonight there was something he had to do.

An hour later Hutchinson stood in a field behind the remains of a farmhouse. The entire commune was little more but rubble now.

_It’s there, the scarecrow._ He’d noticed it when they marched past a week ago, and he had steadfastly been trying to forget it ever since, but the dreams came for him. They always did, increasing in frequency until he could not ignore them...

_Let this one be different_ , he begged silently. _Please, let him not be there_. 

The scarecrow had a burlap sack for a head and weather worn, threadbare clothing. It was barely holding itself together. _Holding itself together?_ Hutchinson chided himself. It was only a scarecrow. He wasn’t really there; it was all in his head.

_Please._

Hutchinson steeled himself, and pulled the head off the body. Underneath was the smiling face of Jeremy Baines.

“Hullo, Hutch, back so soon,” The thing that used to be Jeremy Baines stated.

“Why can’t you leave me alone?”

“I think the real question is, ‘Why can’t you leave me alone?”’

“I… I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do Hutchinson. You just can’t bear to admit it to yourself. It’s the reason you feel so guilty when you look at Latimer.”

“Don’t say his name!” Hutchinson screamed, pushing at the scarecrow. Jeremy Baines’ body melted partially out of the back of the straw man then back in, like water rippling.

“You are upset; normally it takes much more prodding to get you angry enough to strike me.”

Hutchinson turned and started to run but Baines knelt down quickly, he body half in half out of the straw ma. Baines grabbed Hutchinson's leg tripping him. Tom sprawled onto the ground, and tried to crawl away.

“Now, now, you have to stay here. You know I can’t leave my post. I'm stuck to this scarecrow.”

“Buggaroff!”

“Dear boy, this just won’t do. You know I want my time with you. I’m only ever able to separate when you’re here. One day we’ll have to figure that out, won’t we?” Baines began pulling Hutchinson to him.

“No, don’t!”

“Now, Hutchinson, don’t be a bore. You know this is why you come here; our little _chats_.”

***

Tim Latimer sat up in his bunk, groggily looking around. It was too dim to make anything out save the cellar door highlighted by moonlight. He got up and carefully made for the stairs.

Hitting the latrine was Tim’s only conscious thought as he stumbled forward. At the stairs he reflexively turned and looked at his bunkmates. Corporal Schofield was there, he could make out the rise and fall of his breathing. His mind a jumble as he dreamt, he was a nice enough chap if a bit daft. And so direct! It was quite alarming, really. Latimer wanted to have a long talk with Schofield about their mutual acquaintance, but they were rarely alone, and he could not bring it up in front of Hutchinson. Tom would only get alarmed.

_Ah Hutch_ , he looked over at his friend’s empty bunk. He was gone again! Latimer cursed the French wine, and his sluggish brain.

“Where the hell have you got to, Hutch,” the small man muttered climbing the stairs, although he already knew the answer. First things first; visit the khazi, and then search for Tom Hutchinson.

***

Hutchinson picked up the straw man’s head and regarded it carefully. The thing that used to be Jeremy had faded away quickly after he had grabbed Tom. As if that was all he had energy to do. It never lasted.

Hutchinson was guilty and ashamed; hating his weakness, but very glad Tim was not here. He hated to see pain in Latimer’s eyes. He thought that maybe this time he could keep it from him. 

_No, hoping for that is pointless._ Tom sighed. Tim always knew, with his preternatural cunning. Tim was small of frame compared to Tom's beefy athleticism, but Tim was the one who had saved them both time and time again. He was a force of nature, and Tom Hutchinson, was just a man.

Why on earth did he keep coming back to this? What drove him to seek this out? But he knew, even as he thought it. It was in that moment as the thing spent itself, after it had chided and harassed him, that Tom saw something of Jeremy. The thing that inhabited Jeremy’s face, that had killed their friends, left for a moment and he saw Jeremy Baines again in its eyes. It was because of that moment that he kept coming back; hoping one day Jeremy would stay and that the thing called Son of Mine would leave.

He secured the head back on the body of the scarecrow and turned back to camp, his shoulders slumped.

***

Latimer stepped out of the latrine and ran right into Corporal Schofield.

“Watch out,” Schofield said.

“Sorry, wasn’t expecting to run into anyone right outside the door.” Latimer explained. He thought how very fit and blond Schofield was; quite different from the worn, ashen look of the rest of the English soldiers.

“Didja find Hutchinson?” He asked.

“What makes you think I was looking for him?” Latimer said a little resentfully.

“One and one is two; you’re both out from your bunks. You’re here, where’s he? The two of you are inseparable, you know.”

“I do know, thank you,” Tim replied stiffly.

“Want some help finding him?” Schofield asked brightly.

“I’ll manage thanks. You should go back to bed,” Tim replied forcefully, Schofield was a little too eager to help, to suit him.

“I’ll come with you just the same, thanks,” the handsome medic assured him.

“I can make that an order, Schofield,” Tim warned.

“An order’s only good if the man follows it. I’ve never been good at orders.”

Schofield was trying under the best of circumstances. There was something in his manner, a forced gregariousness, as if he were on holiday and trying really hard to enjoy it. Maybe it was the horrific guttural accent, or just maybe it was Latimer’s groggy brain from the French wine, but he had enough.

“Is that why you’re here, then? To keep an eye on us?” Latimer demanded quickly.

“Wha’do you mean?” Schofield started a bit.

“Come off it Schofield. I know you travel with the Doctor.”

“Doctor who?”

“Don’t be cheeky. He must have told you about me,” Latimer squinted trying to read him through the haze in his brain.

“What are you on about, sir?” Schofield feigned surprise.

“Don’t get me started Corporal Thomas Hector Schofield, or should I just call you Hex?”


	2. Interpolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hex comes clean with Tim.

***

Tom Hutchinson was almost back into camp when he heard voices. Ducking behind the rubble of a house, he crept around until he could peer out at the noise. Two men were standing outside the latrine having a heated discussion.

Tim Latimer was arguing with their bunk mate Schofield. Hutchinson couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he heard his name and that was enough, thank you very much. Tom decided discretion was the better part of valor and headed back to the cellar the long way round.

***

“The Doctor was right, you are a canny one. Telepathic, eh?” Schofield asked.

“That’s what he told me, Mr. Hex,” Latimer folded his arms across his chest in a defiant gesture.

“Just ‘Hex.’”

“Right, ‘Just Hex.’ Why are you here?” Tim pressed warily. Was the Doctor here?

“Summat’s happened to the Doctor, and I’m here to try to suss out what.” Hex assumed a nonchalant air.

“God your accent really is atrocious. Is that how everyone talks in the future?” Tim turned and looked out into the night.

“Not all, just some, thanks. We can’t all be posh, you know.”

“What’s happened to the Doctor? Can I see him?” Tim said, almost desperate.

“That’s a definite, ‘No!’ There’s a thing going down and until we know what it is, you’re just going to have to be content with that.” Hex was determined that Tim would not see his concern. “An’ don’t even think about prodding through me noggin’. The Doctor’s taught me a few tricks to keep you out.” 

“But not this Doctor, the other one, but they’re the same,” Tim said. That got a jolt of surprise from Hex. There was something in that.

“Cut that out!” Hex warned. “Trust me the Doctor will tell you what you need to know, and when you need to know it.”

“He’s good at that is he?” 

“No, he’s rubbish. You’re right. But I trust him, and so do you. D on’t have to be psychic to see that,” Hex offered. 

Tim folded his arms across his chest again in defiance. Hex grinned. Tim was shorter than he was, and looked almost elven. Even so he the gesture looked quite forceful; it was cute. 

“I do trust him,” Tim sighed, relenting after a moment.

“Good, then let’s go find your mate,” Hex clapped Tim on the shoulder and turned to the field.

“No need, he crept past us in the dark. He’s back in his bunk.”

“Did he hear us? Does he know…?”

“I don’t think so. He is involved in this, isn’t he, with what is wrong with the Doctor?” 

“No idea, honestly. He’s keeping it close. …But if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say yes, Hutch is deep in. I’m to keep an eagle eye on him, that’s for sure and no mistake.” 

“This can’t be good,” Tim looked up to the stars.

“Rarely is, but let’s back to bunk. Dawn comes soon enough as is.”

_***_

Midshipman Alonso Frame stopped at the corner shop to pick up bread and milk. His mind a jumble. Hex was in France, in the war all on his own, that worried Alonso, whilst they were here with the TARDIS waiting. It seemed waiting was all they did. but that was what the Doctor wanted. 

The Doctor, that was the other part of this. What happened, the incident, had them all worried. It didn't help that these days he kept to himself a lot. _Researching_ , Alonso shook his head. That too worried Frame, he had not been traveling long with the Doctor, but he considered him a man of action. The months of research was unsettling.

Frame found it all a bit frightening, he’d never thought of the Doctor as anything but self-assured. But this event had confused them all. The transformation hadn’t gone quite as expected. _Stupid fob watch,_ , he thought, _What a damn fool thing to do. The Doctor said it didn’t work out so well the first time either. Why try it again?_

“Allons-y, Alonso!” Hex’s voice crackled over the comm link.

“Oi! Don’t call me that!” Frame spat into the air, making the shop girl turn and look. “Uhm hang on,” he smiled sheepishly, grabbed a newspaper, paid for the milk and bread, and ran out of the shop. 

“Alright, back again.” Alonso Frame said

“Cheers,” Hex chirped. Alonso could hear the smile in his voice.

“I don’t like that Allons-y, shite, even from him, so don’t you be starting too,” Alonso tried not to look barmy talking to himself as he walked quickly through town.

“Sorry, mate, but your face turns beet red and your ears stick out just a bit more when he says it. Couldn’t help myself.”

“Ya’ can’t see me,” Frame looked around suddenly and touched his ears.

“No, but I know it’s happening just the same.”

“Sod off,” Frame said and they were silent for a moment. “Hex?”

“Yeah?” the voice returned.

“Go on, sorry,” Frame felt suddenly guilty. Hex was away at the war. How could Alonso begrudge him a little fun, even at his own expense?

“No worries, mate. How're today?”

“The same, okay, I guess. Any news?” Alonso sat down on a bench in the village square.

“Summat’s definitely goin’ down. I was out to track down Hutchinson on a jaunt last night but ran into Latimer at the khazi.”

“What? They go to the loo together? Were they holding hands?” Alonso laughed picturing two soldiers holding hands under a lavatory stall partition.

“No, you daft git, I ran into Latimer in front of the khazi, I have no idea where Hutchinson got to. But Latimer had a few words with me…”

“He knows,” Alonso sat up straight.

“Oh, yeah, the Doctor wasn’t kidding about the telepathy. Anyhoozle, he let me have it, but it’s all good. I just have to let him in on whatever goes down.”

“We figured that would happen.”

“True enough, and I feel better including him,” Hex sighed.

“The instant you need us call, I’m … we’re on pins and needles here.”

“It’ll be alright, Alonso. The Doctor and I’ve been in tighter scrapes than this.”

“I know, I’d just feel better if there was some direction, we’ve been here months. It took weeks just to get you imbedded with them!” Suddenly Alonso felt a bit down, this was not good news, or bad news, it was just no news.

“Yeah, I know. Give 'em my best, eh?” Hex asked.

“I will. Take care, don’t do anything stupid,” Alonso tried not to let the desperation sound in his voice.

“Hey,” Hex admonished, “It’s me.”

“Yes, I know. That’s why I said it. – you alright? You sound winded.”

“Just doing my mornin’ press-ups,” Hex puffed.

“Right, I’m off,” Alonso stood up. He headed down the road toward the ruins of the Priory and the TARDIS parked near it in the woods.


	3. Life in War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hex, Latimer and Tom mark time as mystery deepens.

***

“What on earth are you doing?” Latimer crawled out from under his sheets. He typically slept in a tight ball at the end of his bed.

“You’re the second person to ask me that,” Hex said in mid-press up. “Doesn’t any one do morning calisthenics?”

“We’re in a war zone, just going to the latrine counts as calisthenics,” Tim swung his legs over the side of his bunk, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Especially considering what they give us to eat, eh?”

“Who were you talking to?”

“Me mate, Alonso, he’s another friend of the Doctor’s.”

“Shhhh,” Latimer hissed.

“It’s alright. Hutchinson went to scrounge up some chow.” 

“So what do we do? How do we go forward?”

“Proceed as normal. Something’ll come up; always does,” Hex lay on his back and began to do sit ups.

“Just wait? We’re not going to do anything?” Latimer said amazed.

“No use courtin’ danger, pops up soon enough on its own. Don’t worry we’ll get it sorted, Tim. Best get dressed; we have to be in the trench in an hour.”

“Don’t remind me. Aren’t you scared?” Tim asked, pulling on his boots. Pausing in mid repetition Hex sat up and looked Tim directly in the eye.

“I am so scared, I may shit myself.” 

“Then why did you come? Why didn’t you refuse, let your mate Alonso come?” 

“Because I’ve been to war before, travelin’ with the Doctor,” Hex said quietly. “I was at the Siege of Drogheda and the Sack of Wexford with Oliver Cromwell. In a year, or so, I’ll be here again, in this very war at a British Hospital in Northern France with the Doctor – not this one, the one I knew before.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Because they’re right when they say war is hell, and I’d rather Alonso not quite have to see that yet. He’s seen things, I know, but war like this? It’s a thing of its own. Besides, if I can help in any way I’m goin’ to. That’s why were here, that’s why I’m travelin’ with the Doctor again; I want to help.”

“The Doctor is okay with you being in harm’s way?”

“Of course not, but we’ve not a lot of choice. And trust, the Doctor’s doing what he can for us. There’s a reason we haven’t been called up.” Hex went back to his exercise.

“Really, he can manage that?”

“He manages a lot.” Hex grunted. They were silent for a few minutes, both lost in thought. Hex finished his morning routine and lay back on the cold stone floor. Briefly he considered telling Latimer about groups like UNIT and Torchwood, just to reassure him they were not alone. The thought passed when he saw a shadow on the stairs.

Tom Hutchinson came in and there was an awkward moment full of loud silence, and furtive glances, then everyone went about their business.

The next week passed just the same way. All conversation between Latimer and Hutchinson was short and perfunctory. Their relationship seemed reset to what it had been at public school. Tim knew they were headed to some resolution, but could not see what it was.

Each day they hit the trenches unsure if they’d make it back to camp. The front line held its own; making small advances here and there, only to be pushed back. It was exhausting and endlessly frustrating.

***

The dreams came back to Tom Hutchinson

He was back at school with Jeremy and Tim. Jeremy Baines is always there, with his thick black hair, pale skin, and the slight sneer in his smile. In his dreams Jeremy was his old bunk at school, then in the shed, in the garden, in the woods, showing up in places they never even went together. Jeremy Baines was everywhere. Every morning Tom woke up covered in sweat. 

It was driving him mad.

During the waking hours, while he was in the trench, he would heard the whisper of Jeremy’s voice, the warmth of Jeremy’s cheek beside his. Hutchinson felt his head swim and thought he would fall over. Tim Latimer was there, always there beside him, holding him up.

“Leave me alone!” he shouted and Tim shrank back, hurt. _Please, please, please, don’t,_ Tom thought and the ghost of Jeremy’s lips passed softly over his.

 _Alright, tonight_ , he thought, and just like that it went away. He took a deep breath and turned back to try to make some apology to Latimer, but he was gone. _Damn it._

Hutchinson lay awake in his bunk, waiting until Latimer and Schofield fell asleep. Finally, he crept out and made his way to the farm.

***

Hutchinson needn’t have bothered trying to keep quiet, Hex was awake and waiting for him to make his move. The moment Tom left the bunker he sat up and called out.

“Latimer,” Hex hissed. Getting no reply Hex got up and shook Tim awake. The younger man grumbled, but sat up quickly.

“I don’t think he could’ve made more noise, tryin’ to keep quiet,” Hex laughed.

“You would think he learned nothing at school.” Tim slid out of bed and pulling his long coat on, head spinning with last night’s wine.

“How d’ya mean?” Hex laced up his boots. 

“If you want to sneak out, just act like you’re doing nothing wrong. If you ‘sneak’ out, you are sure to get caught.”

“Rough night, Latimer?” Hex looked at him with concern. The smaller man had not come back until late. Tim passed many nights in another bunker with other lads from the public schools, drinking. Hex did not like it, but he given their circumstances, he could not begrudge it. Often Tim stumbled in long after lights out.

“They’re all rough, Schofield. Why do you ask?”

“I can smell it from here. You stink of wine.” Hex said, immediately sorry he had brought it up, it wasn’t his place. He pulled his coat on and turned to the stairs. “So, didya’ sneak out a lot? At school?”

“I had my moments.” Latimer watched as Hex tentatively looked up, out of the cellar, making sure Hutchinson was on his way and not just visiting the toilet.

“Please, a right goody two-shoes you are,” Hex said cheerily, and added, _’Mostly,'_ to himself. 

“Yeah, that’s me. By the by, how is Alonso and his gold underwear?” Latimer raised an eyebrow as he came up behind the blond man.

“What?”

“I saw this image, clear as day in your head, Alonso Frame in gold underwear… holding an apple?”

“It’s impolite to read people’s thoughts without their permission!” Hex blushed.

“Couldn’t help it. You were practically broadcasting it. He’s on your mind, a lot.”

“Enough of that, let’s go,” Hex pushed Tim ahead of him up the stairs and into the night.

***

“You know this is what you want. This is why you came here!” The thing that used to be Jeremy Baines leaned out of the scarecrow pushing Tom Hutchinson to the ground.

“Get off! I want Jeremy! I want my friend back, you are not him,” Tom shrieked, kicking at Son of Mine as it leered over him.

“No. I'm not Jeremy Baines, but I’m all you have left, Hutch. You can help set me free. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You and your friend together - again?”

Hutchinson pushed himself up off the ground and took a wild swing. The thing that used to be Jeremy rippled in the scarecrow, dodging the blow with uncanny ease. All the wind went out of Tom and he sank to his knees. He felt himself submit. How could he not? It was Jeremy.

“Such a handsome chap.” Son of Mine ran a finger over Tom’s cheek, causing him to shudder.

Hutchinson looked up and a green glow suffused the thing’s face.

Tom heard a familiar voice say, “Oh my God!” It echoed over the field.


	4. Passing Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor... finally

***

Hutchinson must’ve run part of the way, Hex thought, as he and Latimer rounded the wreckage of destroyed barn. There was a light fog on the ground and they worked their way to the center of the field. They could just make out two figures. After passing a ruined wagon they fell to the ground and crawled toward where they’d seen Hutch.

They saw the straw man. They saw Hutchinson pull its head off. Hex had to clap his hand over his own mouth not to shout at the face under the burlap sack. _Oh my God!_ They watched in silence as Hutch argued with the thing, and the creature tried unsuccessfully to walk out of the straw man as it wrestled with Hutch. Tim Latimer lay beside him in stunned silence.

“You knew this was going on?” Hex was incredulous.

“I had an idea,” Latimer said stonily.

“Tim.”

“I knew it. I just didn’t want to believe it,” the smaller man choked out. 

The two men lay on the ground in awestruck silence as they watched the rest of the scene. When the thing began to glow, Hex could take no more and a tumult of emotion washed out of him, “Oh my God!”

***

Midshipman Alonso Frame was lying in bed in the TARDIS reading when the call came in.

“It’s time,” Hex said over the comm link, “Boy is it time.”

“Hex, what happened?”

“I can’t rightly say …rightly. Just come to where I am now.”

“Let me grab the others, we’re on our way.”

“They're not there? What're they doing?”

“He's on his morning walk around what used to be Kirklees Priory, same as everyday. You know she won't leave his side. Just give us a bit,” Alonso pulled his jacket on.

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” Hex sighed, and then his voice dropped to a whisper, “You wearin’ your uniform, Midshipman Frame?”

“Always.”

“You look good in that uniform.”

“That is why I wear it,” Frame grinned.

“Right,” Hex said. “Get here soon, please.”

Alonso grabbed his hat and made his way for the door, "On our way."

***

“This is amazing! What is it?” Hex examined the straw man. The visage of Baines had vanished almost immediately when Hex had shouted out. The spell broken, apparently.

“Leave me alone Schofield, who are you to question me?” Hutchinson sniffed. “Tim, I’m sorry.”

“Just be quiet, Hutchinson,” the smaller man spat, and Tom looked stricken.

“Trying to sort it, but the whole thing's a bit off, ya’ ask me,” Hex pulled the head off the scarecrow. Jeremy Baines’ face was not there. “What is it?”

“You don’t know? The Doctor didn’t tell you?” Tim said surprised, he felt Tom shudder behind him at the mention of the Doctor’s name. Tom only knew of the truth of the Doctor through Tim and what he knew scared him.

“The Doctor’s a good bit like a TV sleuth, he’d rather wait until the last fifteen minutes of the show to let you know his hand.”

“I have no idea what you just said,” Tim sighed.

“Well, hang on a bit, he’ll be here soon,” Hex put the head back on the straw man.

Moments later the air began to move and a distant sound of gears grinding, and an almost organic wheezing got louder and louder as a blue Police Call Box fading into sight. It ended with the sound of a thud. Hex, Tim Latimer and Tom Hutchinson stood in of the TARDIS.

“Bloody hell!” Tom jumped back.

“Exactly,” Hex grinned.

“Tim, you told me, but I didn’t… I ...,” Tom stammered. Hex and Latimer grinned widely. Tom’s face fell slack jawed as the door opened and the Doctor stepped out, cane in one hand, and wearing an old fashioned hat, like members of a barbershop quartet wore.

“Hullo, Hutchinson, Latimer, good to see you lads again,” the Doctor extended his hand in greeting. The words came out of a mouth, out of a face that looked just like that of Jeremy Baines. 

Tom Hutchinson passed out.

***

“Jeremy?” Tom pleaded as he came to. He was lying on the ground, his feet, held up in the air by Hex.

“No, sorry Hutchinson, I'm the Doctor," the tall slender man said, "You knew me as Mister Smith, your teacher.”

“What? How?” Tom asked.

“That’s what I’m here to find out.”

“’Scuse us,” Alonso Frame said, stepping out of the TARDIS, from behind the Doctor, with Martha Jones beside him.

“Eh, Allons-y, Alonso!” Hex hugged Frame tightly. He then moved to Martha, "Hullo, love."

"Hey, handsome," Martha embraced him warmly and gave him a squeeze on his bum."

"Ah, I missed that," Hex said.

"You, missed it? What about me?" Martha gave Hex a peck on the cheek.

“No love for me?” The Doctor shook his head. Hex smiled and grabbed him in a bear hug, lifting him off his feet, "Oh, there it is," The Doctor said, and took Hex’s face in his hands and gave him a quick, friendly kiss, “Love that face.”

"Martha!" Tim smiled broadly, they exchanged a friendly hug. "It is so good to see you."

"You too, Tim."

"Still traveling with him?"

"More like 'again.'" Martha smiled.

"Tim, she's the 'help,'" Hutchinson scowled.

"Shut up, Hutch," Tim said angrily. "I'm sorry, Martha, I've tried to..."

"No, it's okay. I expect no better from him," Martha sighed.

"It's not all right,," Hutchinson stood up shakily, "That was rude. I apologize, Martha. You helped save lives. I'm grateful to you."

"All right, then,'" Martha nodded.

“This is amazing," Tom indicated the TARDIS.

"The entrances are grand aren’t they Tom?" Hex nodded. "Tim, this is me mate, Midshipman Alonso Frame.” He grinned as Tim and Alonso shook hands.

“You regenerated?” Tim asked the Doctor. The mind was the Doctors, he could tell that, but the face was Jeremy Baines. It unnerved him.

“Yes and no. I have since last you saw me, but that’s not why I look like this. ‘This,’” the Doctor indicated his body and face with a hand wave, “Was not my original intention, I assure you. No, it was supposed to be a simple transformation - well not simple - used the Chameleon Arch again, but it didn’t quite work out as I intended.” The Doctor tapped his basher and twirled his cane with a grin.

“But why do you look like Jeremy Baines?” Tim asked directly.

“I think you and your friend here may be the cause of that,” the Doctor said. His voice had the same upper-class lilt as Baines, but the tone was confident, it lacked the sneer Baines voice had.

“Me? I don’t understand. Tim, why does he look like Jeremy?” Tom said his voice quavering.

“Easy Hutch, we’ll get it sorted,” Hex patted Tom on the shoulder.

“Is it because of the pocket watch? I still have it,” Tim said holding it up.

“I know, and you always will. It brings you good luck Tim, but just now it’s brought me a bit of bad," the Doctor took the familiar fob watch in his hand examining it.

“Bad luck?” Tom said sounding shaky.

“Well, not bad exactly, more like a problem I have to fix,” the Doctor explained. The corner of his mouth quivered and there was a slight tremor as he spoke, as if he were on the verge of laughing.

“What?” Hex asked.

“Sorry, sometimes I just think funny things,” the Doctor handed the watch back.

“If you don’t need the watch, then what?” Tim asked confused.

“Tom here has to sever his link to that thing,” the Doctor walked over to the straw man. He pulled off its head and there was the face of Jeremy Baines. It was the Jeremy Baines that Latimer and Hutchinson had known in school, forever young, frozen in time. 

Tom turned and looked at the Doctor. He could see the difference now. The Doctor looked older, he looked like the man Jeremy might have become.

“So it was us,” Tim said quietly.

“Yes, my motley crew and I were on all our way to meet Oscar Wilde,” the Doctor started.

“But he…”

“Time travelers, Tom, keep up,” Martha smiled.

“That was true, Tim? I thought you were just having me on, when the wine got to you,” Tom Hutchinson said numbly.

“Ah, yes the wine, I thought I smelled something,” the Doctor turned and looked Tim up and down, he saw the tremors in Tim Latimer’s small frame. “Alonso go into the TARDIS and get Tim a glass of California Merlot.”

Alonso disappeared back into the TARDIS and Tim’s head lowered in embarrassment. His pale face turned a bright pink.

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor said to Tim.

“We are at war! You’ve no right to judge me, or him!” Tim stammered, the anger within him rose to a boil. “You fly in and out, leaving death and destruction in your wake. You ruined our lives last time you were here, what will you do with them now?!”

The Doctor grabbed Tim by the shoulders, and looked deep into his eyes, “It’s been so hard on you, hasn't it? I am sorry, I’ll try to make it better.”

Tim pushed him away and turned to Martha. Pulling Tim into a hug, she held him as he collapsed in sobs. Tom walked over to Tim, gently took him from Martha and hugged him tight. They sat down on the ground holding each other.

“It’s a start,” Hex said.

“It is, but Tom has to completely extricate himself from its clutches,” the Doctor pointed at the straw man.

Alonso Frame came out of the TARDIS with a large cup full of wine and gave it to Tim. Hutchinson watched his friend greedily gulp down the wine, an icy hand closed over his heart.

“A coffee cup, Alonso? What ever are we going to do with you? There are perfectly fine Bordeaux glasses on board,” the Doctor grumped, and turned to inspect the scarecrow.

“What’s that about? He never used to care about glassware,” Hex whispered. Martha moved next to him.

“It’s the transformation – or what all it was,” Alonso said quietly, watching the Doctor. “It wasn’t just superficial. It’s like a different personality came back.”

“You’ve seen this before, you've both been with him for months now. Is he okay, like this, really?” Hex asked concerned.

“Yeah, pretty sure,” Martha said. “He is very much 'the Doctor', just not the same, y’know what I mean? Same mind and intellect, just - It's like he has a different perspective.”

“But this is buggin’ him. He wants to get this sorted, same as us,” Alonso agreed.

“Tom Hutchinson! Come with me, young man,” The Doctor moved quickly past them toward the remains of the farmhouse. “You and I should have a word or twelve.”


	5. Family of Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heart of the matter.

***

“Tom, how are you doing?” The Doctor led Hutchinson away from the group, his hand on Tom’s shoulder.

“Alright, I guess, thank you sir,” Hutchinson said with a tremor.

“No, you are not, lad. You are scared out of your wits. You’re afraid, and you have every right to be, I want you to know.”

“Who are you?” Hutchinson spat, a little offended. Who was this man to tell him how he felt? _It’s Jeremy!_

“No, I am not Jeremy. I told you, I’m the Doctor,” he spoke in a soft, firm voice. “I know it is a lot for you to wrap around but I was the man you knew as John Smith. I may look like your Jeremy Baines, but I am not him. I promise you.”

“I know that. The last time I saw John Smith, people died,” Tom stared stonily at the Doctor.

“And more may die now, Tom Hutchinson, unless you man up.”

***

“But what exactly happened?” Tim looked Hex in the eye. “You are dancing around the point.

Hex and Martha looked at each other and shrugged. “It’s like he said, we were on our way to meet Oscar Wilde,” Martha began.

“Always did want to meet him,” Hex said.

“Never heard of him, myself, but I’m always game me,” Alonso Frame straightened proudly.

“As I well know,” Hex teased.

“Ladies, I’m waiting!” Tim Latimer interjected angrily.

"They do this all the time," Martha rolled her eyes.

“Keep your shirt on; I’m getting’ to it,” Hex said, “We were passing through here on our way back when, and we ran into interference. It was the other Doctor, the one you knew before, traveling with that with Martha Jones in their TARDIS fleeing through time from something called the Family of Blood.” 

Alonso was making swooping gestures with his hands indicating the flight. 

“They were alien entities,” Tim looked at the straw man with Jeremy Baines face.  
“That is one of them; it is called Son of Mine. It killed Jeremy Baines and took his form, inhabited him. The Family killed innocents ... my friends. The Doctor defeated them and imprisoned that one in a scarecrow - in all scarecrows.”

“Exactly, well, this Family was firing on the TARDIS. Caused enough damage for the shields to flicker,” Alonso said, then made little noises, "Pew, pew, pew," one hand chasing the other.

“What are you doing?” Martha laughed at the Midshipman.

“Demonstratin',” Alonso smiled proudly, “For effect!”

“Ya’ barmy git,” Hex snorted.

“The shields flickered?” Tim asked.

“Anyhoozle, the Doctor was afraid that the Family would follow the signature of his TARDIS,” Hex jumped in, while Alonso continued to demonstrate with his hands, "And not the other Doctor’s, so he tried the same bed trick.”

“Bed trick?” Frame stopped his gesticulating.

“The ‘bed trick,’ a theatrical plot device, Shakespeare used it several times,” Tim explained.

“Oh,” Frame looked confused, “I have no idea what any of that is.”

“He’s not from around here,” Hex grinned, and the Midshipman’s face flushed.

“I am surprised you know it, Hex,” Martha arched an eyebrow.

“Hey, I know things.” 

“Go on,” Tim hurried, glancing to the Doctor still talking to Tom.

“The Doctor had to use the TARDIS to become human – again - while we were in the eddy of the previous TARDIS,” Martha said, she side-eyed Alonso who had taken up indicating the flight with his hands again, one hand following closely behind the other. “The Midshipman here shut the power and we drifted in flight, landing in England a few months ago.”

“Wouldn’t you have run into the previous TARDIS?” Tim asked.

“Won’t happen,” Hex said. “The default won’t let it land where it still is, if you get my drift. The TRADIS won’t let itself occupy the exact same time and space as itself - well mostly - does happen from time to time. The Time Lords built lots of safeties in it.”

“Had to didn't they?” Martha looked over at the Doctor, “Don’t get me wrong, he’s dead brilliant, but he’s not like us. They live too long, see too much, miss the small stuff sometimes.”

“Can’t see the trees, for the forest?” Tim nodded.

"Exactly," Martha agreed.

“Yeah, they’re big picture folk, sometimes a bit thick on the street stuff,” Frame agreed.

“And in the trenches,” Hex sighed.

“That’s why we’re here, keep him focused,” Martha looked at Hex and smiled.

“Anyway, we opened the fob watch a month on and ‘pop,’" Alonso waggled his hands, "the Doctor resumes human form.”

"Only he came back different, he came back..." Hex continued.

“Looking like your old friend Jeremy Baines,” Martha finished.

“He was never my friend. He was Tom’s," Latimer looked back at Hutchinson sadly.

***

“You have an emotional bond with that thing. It is feeding on you, killing you, and it is going to kill Tim,” The Doctor explained.

“I’m not doing anything,” Hutchinson protested stiffly.

“Then why do you keep visiting it? How can you even see it? No one should be able to see it but me,” the Doctor sighed. He took off his hat and scratched his head. “If there is any way for it to get loose, it is through you. The friendship you shared with Jeremy, it is feeding off that bond, it is killing you and taking Tim along for the ride. He feels all your pain, you know, why else do you think Tim is drinking so much?”

“We're at the front, everyone drinks,” Tom said with contempt.

“Not like that Tom. Look at him, carefully. He’s a wreck. This is killing him.”

“Take Tim away with you, put him in that ‘ship’ of yours, and take off and never come back!” Tom pleaded.

“I would if could,” the Doctor said, “But Tom Hutchinson and Tim Latimer have an appointment in a few months. You both have to be here. Besides, Tim would never leave you, now would he?”

“No.” 

“He never will. He will always be your friend,” the Doctor said firmly. “Look at me Tom and tell me honestly; can you say the same thing for Jeremy Baines, had he lived?”

Tom Hutchinson looked into the Doctor’s pale eyes and remembered his dead friend. He had been cold, and occasionally cruel. Tom had always considered him a friend, but Jeremy would never have looked out for him in the selfless way Tim had. Latimer was not a friend, he was more.

“Jeremy was your first love, not your last, and Jeremy Baines is dead,” the Doctor said kindly, “It’s time to let him go.”

Tom Hutchinson took in the Doctor’s words, and after a long moment he sighed. Relief filled him, and sadness sloughed off him like a weight. He stood up straight, and looked the Doctor in the eye. Suddenly the man didn’t look as much like Jeremy anymore. Tom could see the difference.

“What do I do?” Tom Hutchinson asked with determination.


	6. Future Tense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mystery is sussed out and revenge is had.

***

“But why does the Doctor look like Jeremy Baines?” Tim asked exasperated.

“The watch,” Martha said.

“The watch,” Hex agreed.

“But he said it was powerless,” Tim protested.

“And it is… mostly. But you’re a telepath and that thing,” Hex pointed at the scarecrow. “Is - or was - a powerful alien entity.”

“And you have an intense emotional bond with said alien entities… uh …" Martha stammered.

"Boytoy,” Midshipman Frame grinned.

“No need to be crass,” Latimer protested.

“The three of you created a psychic circuit that we moved through. You charged up the watch enough that it synched with the Chameleon Arch. We flew a lightning rod through a thundercloud,” Hex explained, “YOU imprinted a pattern on the watch, and the Doctor.”

“He is the Doctor, not Jeremy, right?” Tim said, unsure.

“Oh, yes, he’s the Doctor," Martha said, "Two hearts and all. We checked."

"The TARDIS cleared him, too,” Alonso lifted up his hat and ran a hand over the brim, brushing something off.

“You checked him out - you had to be sure,” Tim said.

“Of course,” Frame cuffed Tim in the shoulder, “We have to look out for our mates, don’t we?”

“Mine doesn’t wear shiny gold underwear,” Latimer said rubbing his shoulder from the blow.

“Yet,” Hex corrected, “Always say yet.”

“I can’t believe you told him,” Frame looked at Hex in disbelief.

“He didn’t, I saw the image in his mind,” Tim smiled. “What was with the apple?”

“Come along boys, we are going now," the Doctor strode up to them. "Tim, fancy a quick trip in the TARDIS?”

“You bet I do,” Tim said excitedly. “Tom, you okay!”

“Better than ever, Tim. Get going, eh?” Hutchinson smiled for the first time in months.

“Aren’t you going to come along?” Tim hesitated.

“No, I have a bit of business to take care of, thanks. See you in a bit,” Tom said.

“Come along Tim. We have our own little adventure,” the Doctor led the way into the TARDIS followed by Hex, Martha and Midshipman Frame. 

Tim looked at Tom. He started to speak but Tom just smiled.

“Go on, then,” Hutchinson said.

“I’ll be back,” Tim told him.

“I know.”

Tim ran into the TARDIS just as the grinding noise started. Outside Tom watched in wide-eyed wonder as the TARDIS faded from view. He smiled broadly. What a wonder!

“Alone at last,” the thing that had been Jeremy Baines whispered.

“Oi! You talking again?” Tom strode over to the straw man, “You really are my own personal nightmare, aren’t you? Only real to me.” 

“You’re mine,” the all-too-familiar voice hissed.

“No, Son of Mine, I’m not yours, and I never will be.”

***

“Where are we going?” Tim stared up at the glowing pillar at the heart of the TARDIS control room, a grin pasted wide-eyed to his face.

“Two stops,” the Doctor said, wildly twisting knobs, and running around the center column, “The far future, and the distant past.”

“You know he doesn’t have to do all that work. It’s mostly show,” Hex reclined in a big comfy chair. Martha sat on the arm of the chair, half leaning back into Hex, whilst furiously typing on her phone. Alonso stood next to the Doctor twisting knobs, helping him.

"That's not even true," Alonso rolled his eyes at Hex who smiled in return. 

Tim Latimer laughed at the four of them, all so at home with each other.

“I meant to ask, what’s with the hat?” Hex cocked his head

“It’s a basher. He started wearing it about a month ago,” Frame volunteered.

“You don’t like the hat?” The Doctor asked in a hurt voice. “Hats are cool.”

“Not hats like that, they're not," Martha offered. "You look like a singer in a Barbershop quartet! And a cane?! Seriously?” 

“And I’m just not sure someone as lanky as you should be wearing a vest," Hex said.

“God, look who's a fashion critic,” the Doctor moaned, “Comments are not allowed from snarky young men who wear hospital scrubs as an everyday wardrobe item.”

“I’m a nurse,” Hex protested.

"Martha's a doctor, but you don't see her lounging around the TARDIS in them," the Doctor shot back, “And that chair is leaving. I don’t know why I let you keep it.”

“It’s comfy. My scrubs are comfy,” Hex said in a hurt small voice.

“Actually, I prefer you in that uniform,” the Doctor wagged an eyebrow indicating Hex’s current kit.

“Please, you like anything in a uniform, just ask Captain Jack," Hex smiled. "And that one," he indicated Alonso.

“Only when they’re pretty,” the Doctor said, “With tea cup-like ears.” He finished and Frame’s face turned a bright crimson.

“I think I like this new you,” Hex laughed.

“Easy for you to say, you haven’t been with him for months,” Frame sighed and regretted it immediately. The Doctor’s face took a downward cast. He looked hurt.

“I was only kiddin’,” Frame explained quickly, “You’re great honest, y’ know that. I was only joinin’ in!”

“He knows,” Martha grinned at the concerned Midshipman, a gleam in her eye. “He's just teasing you Alonso.”

“You’re mean, y’ know that, right?” Alonso said and the Doctor winked at him.

“I love you mate,” Hex almost fell out of his chair laughing.

“You are all mad,” Tim grinned.

"Have to be," Hex and Martha said in unison, and giggled.

“And… We are there!” The Doctor quit manhandling the controls as the TARDIS came to a stop.

“Where are we?” Alonso asked.

“Five billion years in the future, and ‘It’s the end of the world as we know it.’” The Doctor sang, “Or very nearly - a few months shy, really. Have to be careful not to run into myself, you know. There’s an orbiting space station I’ll be on at the very end. Come on, let us be off! No time to dawdle.”

***

“You’ve had this coming for a long time,” Hutch said and began pulling the stuffing out of the scarecrow. Son of Mine tried to get away, its form rippling in the scarecrow but the invisible tether kept it there. It screamed.

Hutchinson put the burlap sack back over the face of the thing that looked like Jeremy Baines and gritted his teeth. Ripping the thing off it’s post, he fell on top of it. Anger after his months of torment rose, and he frantically pulled it apart, creating a whirlwind of straw and tears. He shouted and cursed at it until he was done. 

Within minutes all that remained was the post standing upright. The scarecrow was gone, bits of it now lay strewn across the field. Tom collapsed in an exhausted heap, his breathing deep and labored.

Moments pass, and finally Hutchinson looked up, from the periphery of his vision he noticed another scarecrow in the next field over.

“No.” He shook his head. “No, I think we are quite done.” Standing up, Tom brushed the dirt off his uniform and walked back toward the house that functioned as their quarters. 

After clearing their dugout of empty and half-drunk wind bottles, Tom sat down on his cot and waited for Tim to return. Pulling out some writing paper, he began a letter home. 

The dreams of Jeremy Baines never bothered him again.


	7. Family Resemblance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the matter.

***

The Doctor twirled his cane as he stepped out of the TARDIS and onto the barren landscape that used to be the Earth.

“Good God, what happened?” Tim Latimer stood beside the Doctor.

“The Earth is about to die. But not to worry, humanity is long gone.”

“Gone?”

“They’re on thousands of different worlds, Tim,” Martha said. “We’ve seen it!”

“Humankind is now a part of the culture of the galaxy. This is just the shell of a world they left behind long ago,” the Doctor walked away.

“It’s sad,” Tim followed after him.

“Is it? If you say so. It’s just a rock, really. It is the people who were important. Come along,” the Doctor and Martha walked arm in arm toward a small hill. 

“Recognize it Tim?” The Doctor asked.

“Not really. Is this England? Is this where the school was?” Tim was aghast.

At the top of the hill stood a scarecrow.

“Oh my God!” Hex pointed at the thing.

“That is it. Isn’t it?” Tim asked. “That is the original scarecrow you put Son of Mine into?”

“It’s been here - all this time?” Alonso came up behind them.

“Oh, yes. I sentenced him to this prison, there was no getting out. Or might not have been, if not for Tom Hutchinson.”

“Tom freed that thing, the ‘Son of Mine?’” Tim asked concerned.

“That was the danger; if it could be freed, love could certainly do it. But let us find out, shall we? If Tom-Tom did his job, Son of Mine will still be here,” the Doctor pulled the straw man’s head off to find the face of Jeremy Baines. “Ta-dah!” 

“He did it,” Martha smiled. Hex and Frame shared a glance.

“It is still here,” Tim sighed with relief. “I guess Tom exorcized his demons.”

“It’s gruesome,” Alonso said,

“Indeed, it is, but no less than it deserved,” the Doctor said grimly. He turned and cheerily patted Tim’s back, ”Tom’s a good lad,”

“Tim - Tom,” Alonso Frame nudged Hex, “Kinda sing-song innit?”

“Just got that didja?” Hex pushed back. 

“Children,” the Doctor looked at Martha and they both shook their heads.

***

“Where are we taking that thing?” Martha asked, “I don’t like having it in here.”

“I don’t either, but I think it’s time we put dear Jeremy to some use,” the Doctor said, “I think it is time he got to do some good.”

Hex and Tim looked at each other. Hex knew all about the desire for redemption. He had seen a lot traveling with the Doctor in the TARDIS, good and bad. Feeling that he had been living on borrowed time had driven him to distraction and to near destruction. He knew better than most that things did not necessarily get better just because the Doctor showed up, but they tried. That was the point, it was why he had come back, again.

Tim nodded to Hex catching the stray thoughts. He turned and eyed the figure of Jeremy Baines carefully. It was bound by chains to one of the TARDIS’ supports. Listless, with seemingly little conscious thought, but the creature looked new, like it was just off the shelf, despite the millennia.

“Why does he look the same?” Tim finally asked.

“That is all it has left; It’s almost gone,” the Doctor replied.

“So it is still alive,” Tim said. 

“Just.”

“Doctor, why did Tom find that thing in a straw man in France?” Martha asked. “I thought you set them to guard England.”

“I don’t know. It could be Baines left over feelings for Hutchinson. Tim’s relationship with Hutch, the watch, all of the above, or it could be simply that there were so many English there that it felt that it needed to be there,” the Doctor sighed, “But I do know one thing.”

Tim looked at him questioningly.

“We are here! Gentlemen and lady, everyone out!” The Doctor tapped his basher and walked to the door. Green woods lay just beyond the TARDIS door.

“You really do look like you belong in a barber shop quartet,” Hex teased. The Doctor glared at Hex as he passed, then swatted him on the butt with his cane.

“Ouch!”

“There’s more where that came from, if you don’t watch it Thomas Hector Schofield,” the Doctor said with a grin.

“Where are we?” Frame asked.

“We are on Earth; England, Sherwood Forest to be precise,” the Doctor told him.

“Sherwood Forest?” Hex smiled, “You’re serious?”

“I am,” the Doctor walked away. “Go get the prisoner.” 

Hex ran back in the TARDIS and uncoupled Son of Mine from the support.

“Don’t try anything. I don’t think the Doctor is likely to be merciful, again,” Hex told it, but the words were wasted. The creature was insensate. Hex led it out like a dog on a leash.

He found the party about ten feet from the TARDIS standing around the prone figure of a young dark-haired boy. Martha was on her knees next to him. Hex reacted in alarm and ran to them, dragging his charge along.

“Let me through,” Hex knelt down and checked the child’s pulse. 

“He had a bad fall climbing the tree,” the Doctor said.

“He’s dying, Doctor,” Martha said. “Or he will if he doesn’t get help.”

“His pulse is weak,” Hex looked at Martha, and she nodded. Hex prepared to pick him up, “Let’s get him to the TARDIS.”

“No,” the Doctor said.

“What?” Martha shouted, “But Doctor…”

“There is no time,” The Doctor said, turning to Son of Mine.

“Son of Mine, Jeremy Baines,” the Doctor said, “Whatever is left of you, listen to me. If you want to live, then you have to save this child. Put what ever is left of your energy into saving this boy. If you don’t, I will take you back to the future and let you perish with the Earth. Do you understand?” 

The creature’s head lolled to and fro. 

Hex, Martha, Frame and Latimer all looked from one to the other. The two men were a mirror of the other. The creature an image of Jeremy Baines on the day he died, and the Doctor the picture of the man he might have become years later.

“My head hurts,” Frame said. Tim nodded, thinking the young boy on the ground looked oddly familiar.

The Doctor took Son of Mine by the shoulders and looked deep into its eyes, “Jeremy Baines, I am speaking to you, you have to save this child. You were a good boy once.”

Tim rolled his eyes at that, and caught a sharp glance from the Doctor.

“You were a decent chap,” the Doctor continued, “You had potential. Listen to me. You have to save him. Your life depends on it. Do it for Hutchinson.”

Something deep within Son of Mine, sparked at the Doctor’s words. The little bit of him that all that was left of Jeremy Baines stirred in the thing’s eyes, as the remains of the English school boy awakened and propelled Son of Mine to action.

“Hutch,” the Baines thing nodded and knelt over the prone figure, putting his hands on the boy’s chest. The figure of Jeremy Baines seemed to quiver in the breeze. His head shot upright and a green glow lit its face. Son of Mine vanished. All that was left in the glade were the four men and the unconscious young boy.

“Right then, let us away, children,” the Doctor quickly turned and strode for the TARDIS.

“Doctor, what about the boy?!” Martha called after him.

“Yes, how did you know, he would be there?” Latimer ran at the Doctor’s elbow.

“I set it up while we were ‘waiting.’ Researching around the remains of Kirklees Priory, Nottingham, Locksley, the TARDIS library, even Google. Little jaunts back and forth in time in the TARDIS, bouncing around looking for just the right moment,” The Doctor walked straight to the TARDIS control panel and began flipping controls.

Hex and Martha trailed behind, they kept looking behind them toward the prone figure of the boy.

“Hex, Martha, come along; the boy will be fine, I promise!” The Doctor shouted.

“Then what’s the hurry?” Martha asked, barely getting in as the TARDIS started up.

“Because, I’m about to arrive,” The Doctor explained, slightly exasperated. “The ‘me” from about a month ago is about to arrive here and carry that boy to Locksley village.”

“Locksley? You mean that boy is….” Latimer stood amazed.

“Will Scarlett, yes,” The Doctor said.

“What? Will Scarlett?” Hex looked at him astonished.

“Will Scarlett, Robin Hood’s right hand man. What is left of Jeremy Baines/Son of Mine will earn his redemption as one of Robin Hood’s men,” the Doctor smiled cheerily. “In my research I found out that one Will Scarlett died as a child. However, that clearly did not happen. It was a paradox, and we just repaired it.”

“Told you, makes the head hurt, sometimes,” Alonso said to Tim.

“I thought Robin Hood was a just story,” Hex said, “Like Tarzan, or the Batman.”

“Many folktales have some basis in fact,” the Doctor said, “You just have to look.”

“But, how did you come up with the idea to do this?” Tim asked.

“John Smith was from Nottingham,” Martha said, “That was the past the TARDIS gave you!”

“Yes, it’s all tied together you see?” The Doctor nodded. “It is one big interconnecting puzzle, one thing leading to the other. Will Scarlett will grow up to look just like Jeremy Baines, I expect.”

“He already does,” Latimer agreed, “I thought boy looked familiar.”

“I will even wager you that Will Scarlett is Baines’ ancestor,” the corner of the Doctor’s mouth twitched again, as he stifled a laugh, and tapped his hat with a finger.

“Thinking funny things, again?” Hex shook his head.

“Oh yes, quite,” The Doctor winked at Hex.

“But did Marian really die in the Holy Land? Like on the TV show?” Martha asked. “I hated that.”

“God no, that was rubbish. Now, it is past time we got you back, young Latimer,” the Doctor said. “Tim-Tim-Timmy. Tom is waiting, and you boys have too many things to do than to lark around with us. Please do stay away from the wine. I don’t want to have to come back and do an intervention. You lot don’t even have Alcoholics Anonymous yet.”

“I will Doctor,” Tim smiled at the handsome man with the wry goofy smile. He fancied that the Doctor looked a bit less like Jeremy Baines with every passing second.

***

“Well,” The Doctor said starting up the TARDIS. “The boys are back at camp where they need to be.”

“Will they be okay?” Alonso asked.

“Oh, yes, quite. They both grow into cute little old men. We’ve seen it, haven’t we Martha?” The Doctor asked.

“Yeah, we attended a Remembrance Day event, got to see Tim again,” Martha smiled at the memory.

The Doctor flipped switched on the TARDIS control panel. “It’s FAN-tastic. Where to now? Fancy a proper trip back to meet Robin Hood, and the grown up Will Scarlett?”

“Sounds proper,” Alonso said, “If I knew who Robin Hood was.”

“Sorry, forgot, you’re not from this planet,” the Doctor smiled. “Oscar Wilde, then?”

“Oh yeah, heard of him. He’s written books in the TARDIS library,” Frame smiled. “Shakespeare’s sister, right?”

“Cheeky,” the Doctor turned back to the control panel. “There’s books and video on Robin Hood, in the Library as well, by the orchard.”

“I know, just teasing. It is in the reference section marked by the lemon trees. Speaking of which, tea anyone?” Alonso asked.

“Oh yes, I knew we kept you around for a reason,” the Doctor smiled, “Well, another reason.”

“Cheers, mate, love some,” Hex called from his comfy chair.

“Same here, please,” Martha moved to join Hex, nudging him over.

The console screen abruptly flickered with the face of a handsome young man in a red beret. A static-interrupted voice came over the TARDIS’ comm system.

“Doctor - need - help. Come in Doctor!” the man said.

“Who is it?” Hex shouted coming quickly around.

“Someone I thought was dead,” the Doctor looked at the screen, astonished, “Ross Jenkins.”

“Ross? Oh, I liked Ross,” Martha said, “What do you mean? He didn’t die.”

“Is he cute?” Alonso piped up from across the way.

“Oh yeah,” Hex smiled.

“Well that figures, dunnit?” Alonso returned with a full tea tray in hand.

“UNIT - help Doctor - We have - woman, here. Says she’s a friend - message for you.”

“Okay, I’ll bite,” the Doctor said.

“- Message is, ‘Hello, sweetie.’”


End file.
